Merge thy Soul
by EswerdeLicht
Summary: Harry Potter unknowingly enters a pact with an evil being. Will this end in the destruction of the world? Who is this demon?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do neither own Harry Potter, nor the Final Fantasy VII universe. I yield no profit by writing this fanfiction, other than my own amusement.

**Summary: **Harry Potter unknowingly enters a pact with an evil being. Will this end in the destruction of the world? Who is this demon?

**Pairing: **Now that would be telling! It will certainly not be slash however.

**Merge Thy Soul**

**Chapter 1**

It was dark, That was to be expected, though, as it was night in Little Whinging. In this upstanding neighbourhood, Harry Potter, who the inhabitants of Little Whinging considered... well… not upstanding at least, lay on his bed, reading a book. If anyone living in the neighbourhood saw him, they would probably think it was something freakish, as the tome looked, and probably was, ancient and it's name was "Creaturae malae".

What kind of normal person would read a book called "Evil Creatures", after all?

Now, what those people did not know was that Harry Potter was no normal person.

He was a wizard.

A very angry wizard, to be precise, after being robbed of his godfather and then hearing of the "betrayal" of his beloved mentor, Harry Potter was in a rage. He hated Voldemort and wanted nothing more than to just end the fiend's existence and stop all of his nefarious plans.

He loathed the Order of the Phoenix. After Professor Dumbledore had told him the prophecy, he had lost control for a short time, but afterwards a lot became clearer, at least that was what Harry thought. The intricate manipulations of one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, making the wizarding world believe him to be some kind of new Merlin.

He was powerful, no question, but his inaction until the key figure on his chessboard was attacked, showed, in Harry's opinion, how manipulative the old man was.

The order only sat on their butts, talking, talking and discussing "You-know-who" and his movements. This did not help a bit in his opinion. Even after the skirmish in the Ministry of Magic they went back to sitting in their dark meeting rooms and acting like a bunch of chickens.

At first, before his anger had become uncontrollable, he had tried to get his friends to lend him support, to ground him a bit.

A week after sending the letters he received one rather disconcerting answer and nothing at all from the people he considered to be his best friends.

Harry,

I can't imagine how you'd be feeling at the moment, but all of the books I've read say that you need to allow yourself to cry over him. Otherwise you will never get over it.

I'm in France at the moment, and it might be difficult for Hedwig to find me. Plus, I'm around Muggles most of the time, so please try not to send to many letters, okay? I'm sure Ron will be happy to hear from you.

Hermione

Shortly after Hermione's letter Harry received a letter from Ron, a letter that was smoking in the bin after reading just the first three sentences.

His friend's lack of sensivity led him to believe that their friendship meant nothing. In his mind, they had betrayed him.

Dudley's broken toys did not like his response.

* * *

The wizards and witches of the world were sheep; they were easily turned against anyone. All it would take was a few articles painting him in a bad light and he would, once again, be the pariah of the Wizarding World. He despised them. 

The Dursleys were, of course, their usual charming selves, continuing to earn his hatred.

His once red hot rage had cooled, leaving behind a very calm, but still irrational Harry. He knew that his foolishness had cost him valuable time. So he began to study.

That was three weeks ago, he had reread his school text books for charms, transfiguration and potions from year one upwards only to discover how much theory he had missed.

Unfortunately he had not become an unstoppable force in three weeks of studying, hell, he still had problems with fourth year transfiguration, but it seemed clearer to him now.

Currently he was reading a book about dark creatures, how to summon them and such rubbish. He had taken the book out of the library shortly before the department of mysteries fiasco and had not returned it to the restricted section. He had supposed that a 'finite incantatum' was an obvious way to get past the charms on the restricted books and was right for once.

He just read about a creature called "Daemon of Hades", evil souls of perished villains in representations of their bodies, who, when summoned, would give the bearer something that was not described in any way.

There, below the description was a hand-written note. His forehead creased, what kind of information was, 'Come forth, soul of the perished, Thy eternal torment hath ended. I am willing to pay thine price. Empower me with thy gift!'

"Sounds ridiculous…", murmured Harry and then read it out once, contemplating what fool invented this fluke of a ritual..

_Haaarryyyyyy Poooottterrrrr... Your drive for vengeance is... encouraging... Mother will be pleased with my find..  
_

"What? Who's talking?", said Harry, slightly afraid of someone knowing about his plans.

_I am who I am... You don't need to worry about me betraying your secrets. Are you willing to pay the price for power? To humiliate and then destroy your enemies? To make them tremble at your feet?_

"Who are you? More importantly, what and where are you?" asked Harry, wondering if he had some kind of a hallucination.

"My name is of no importance to you. Be assured that I am a friend and if you did not notice, I am right her," said a male voice behind Harry, who turned around as fast as he could.

"How am I supposed to know that you are not here to hurt me? You could just be some insane plot devised by Voldemort," challenged Harry, struggling to keep an emotionless expression on his face.

"I am not here to harm you, little one, do you think you would be alive had I intended to kill you?" chuckled the figure, shaking it's head, which was surrounded by a white-silver hue.

"Prove your intentions!"

"If I had any thoughts of harming you the blood wards around this place would have expelled me immediately."

"What was the price and power you talked about before?" asked Harry, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Don't be impatient, boy! The price will not hurt you; the powers, however, are unfathomable."

"Will I be powerful enough to defeat Voldemort?"

"That powerful and more, boy," the Daemon chuckled darkly, "I swear it by mother."

"Who is this 'mother' person you keep mentioning?"

"That is of no consequence, however let me tell you that your body will strengthen and your magic shall grow."

Harry missed the look on the strangers face, had he seen it he would have started to back out of the deal very slowly and carefully. The look practically shouted: "I am evil, you will help me!"

"Will I change?"

"Do not fret, you will like it. At least after it is over. Come now, I give you a chance of a lifetime, to free yourself from the bonds of society! Throw off your leash and show them your true power!"

"Alright… I accept... I will pay the price. I will do anything to have my revenge!" a flash of light surrounded Harry and he looked around in confusion, not even thinking about the importance of his words.

"I accept your offering. You have bound yourself to accept my price. My soul shall join yours, your body shall change to a state befitting for our joint souls, your magic shall change, our souls will merge equally and we, the new ultimate being will purge the world of those that threaten us and rule the others! We shall make mother proud!" yelled the figure gleefully.

"Wait! What, No! You cant do that!" shouted a terrified Harry.

"I most certainly can, did you really think that would help you just like this? I did not lie, but I did not tell you the whole truth. We, in union, shall do as I have said and so much more!", announced the man.

In that moment a single black wing burst out of the persons back.

Harry now had his true first look at the man, as the blur disappeared. He was tall, far taller than him, well muscled and good looking. He had long, straight and silky silvery-white hair that grew down his back. .

The fallen angel held out his right hand and even though Harry tried to resist it, the binding contract and his magic forced him to shake it.

White filled his vision, and searing pain shot through his body, his mind was drowned in memories, feelings, while his magic was growing by the second.

In the cacophony of pain and uncontrolled memories he heard a voice echo:

_"You may call me Sephiroth."_

* * *

Here is the beginning for an idea that floated around in my head for ages. 

Reviews are appreciated and encouraged of course :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do neither own Harry Potter, nor the Final Fantasy VII universe. I yield no profit by writing this fanfiction, other than my own amusement.

**Summary:** Harry Potter unknowingly enters a pact with an evil being. Will this end in the destruction of the world? Who is this demon?

**Pairing:** Now that would be telling! It will certainly not be slash however.

**Merge Thy Soul**

**Chapter 2**

I look out of the window, humming contently. I see a beautiful day on a good planet. Looking at the cars driving down Privet Drive. I sniff in distaste, how dare those puny fools befoul my world? They are to be pitied for their ignorance of the supernatural. Why, they were ignorant of even their own technology! They should know that the amount of pollution these vehicles were pumping out could only lead to one thing – the destruction of every living thing on this world, magical and muggle alike.

Standing up I stretch my limbs one after the other. Finishing by stretching my fingers I sit down on my bed to consider my next couple of moves.

I have by now realized that I am neither Harry nor Sephiroth anymore. In a sense I am both yet more than either of them could ever become.

Sephiroth may, being older and mightier, have a great influence our rough plans but Harry evened out his more.. malignant influence.

The people of this planet would doubtlessly call me evil. I cannot truly disagree with them. Though from my point of view most of them are evil also, it does, after all, take true evil to kill billions.

I have no need or even a want to exterminate life and destroy the planet; neither do I want to use it as a vessel for travelling through space. This planet is uncorrupted enough for my own uses.

I will still honour mother of course, but I know that she has nearly no chance of coming here and I shall claim this world for myself.

I will bring woe upon those who have betrayed me and those who oppose me shall fear my wrath. No longer will I stand by idly as they use me!

I will kill them after long torture! The survivors will be my servants; I will rule them absolutely leading this planet into a time of fame and glory that no one will be able to fathom!

Having lost my ideals of killing everyone I now have other ways to success open than the full frontal charge, I can manipulate them against each other, make them weaken themselves and then in a surprising strike put down the filthy scum.

Manipulation is fine and dandy, as long as it is not against me.

I look around my room; it is as shabby as always. Not that I expected that to change, I think I remember something of wizards being allowed to defend themselves by all means against muggles…

Most intriguing.

I stand up from my "prison cot" and walk over to my trunk. After opening it I pull out a pair of boxers, a big T-Shirt as well as Dudleys biggest shorts, as the T-shirt I wore yesterday is torn, most likely from the ritual, then leave the room and walk towards the bathroom. After entering it I turned on the shower and whilst searching for towels caught a glipse of myself in the steamed-over mirror.

My hair is even more abnormal than it was while I was Sephiroth; It is now shimmering between deep black and a whitish-silver and reaches to my waist. It is as smooth as Sephiroth's was, slightly Asian in dexterity, not the thick European hair like mine were. My eyes are still green, though their shade changed to sea-green, in the middle of a light blue-green and emerald. That's a surprise though, I am supposed to have just one wing, now I have two…

They are the old black colour, at least, couldn't stand white wings... I look more refined now, and I have had a "growth" spurt

I am, funnily enough, taller than the 6' I was as either Sephiroth and compared to Harry's 5'5, 6'6'' is gargantuan. I will have to train up my body again, while it is neither fat nor as thin as Harry's pathetic body, I find it to be lacking in muscles.

My face looks a bit more aristocratic if I think about it, I am quite pleased with my new appearance… I had no idea that my transformation would activate Harry's inactive vanity...

Get a grip of yourself! The change in mentality is not finished… Maybe in a day or two, but not yet… Now I am still Harry, soul wise, but I also have Sephiroth's influence… souls are far more intricate than either the mind or body. Hopefully we will be able to find a balance, creating the perfect soul.

I guess my shower is ready now, so I'll have it now, though it could be a bit tight with the wings in there, even in a folded state.

* * *

You have not talked to the freak in two weeks other than telling him his chores. You considered it gracious of you to be so nice to him and this is how he repays you?

You are seething inside and already planning the telling down you will give him later, he will not know what hit him! You will put him a peg or two down and then he will realize why you are the ruler of the household!

First he defied your orders to keep silent yesterday and creates a terrible ruckus and now he doesn't even mow the lawn like he was supposed to! The cheek of the brat! You will show him that his mockery can not go unpunished. You will insult him and threaten him, and then after he performs some silly floating spelly-thingy he will be arrested by his freaky friends …. Yes, that's how you're going to do it; you never understood why Petunia was afraid of those freaks anyways.

You just left the kitchen in search of the freak, when you hear the shower running. Your blood boils, how dare the freak disrespect you and your family by wasting their warm water! You will wait until he is finished with his shower and then demonstrate to him your authority!

---------------------------------------------

You have been waiting for twenty minutes to hear your nephew leave the bathroom, he just finished using the hairdryer and, ah, here he is! You storm forward as fast as you can and take the boy by his collar, not bothering to assess the possible threat. Without his stick he can't do a thing, well, at least that's what Petunia said.

Breathing heavily you pull him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Pet and Dudders were eating, you start yelling immediately, never looking at him;

"YOU FREAK! HOW DARE REFUSE TO DO THE FEW CHORES WE GIVE YOU! WE HAVE GIVEN YOU A ROOF ABOVE YOUR HEAD AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US?"

"Uncle, sometimes there are other things that need to be done, unfortunately I had a nightmare yesterday and had to report to the order," The boy answers calmly.

"I WILL SHOW YOU MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO BE DONE! DO YOU THINK I CARE ABOUT YOUR NIGHTMARES? IF YOU DON'T DO YOUR CHORES I'LL THROW YOU SCROUNGING BACKSDIDE OUT TO THE CURB!" here you pause for breath allowing yourself to finally look at the boy. He is as nonchalant as before and you feel your anger begging to strike out at him. "But first I think It's time I showed you exactly why no-one disrespects a Dursley," you say, your face splitting into a sadistic visage that promises pain.

You notice that Petunia and Dudley look afraid of something, but you still focus on the other side of the kitchen, wanting to intimidate your freakish nephew.

"Are you threatening me, Uncle?" hissed the boy in an uncharacteristically cold voice.

Enough is enough and you turn around and roar "YES I BLOODY WELL AM! I ALWAYS KNEW THAT YOU'D TURN LIKE YOUR BITCH OF A MOTHER! A ROTTEN APPLE FROM A FINE TREE!"

You jump back in fear as you see your nephew; he looks like a different person! The freak had wings; you want kill him for such a mockery of Christianity, but feel your chances slipping away like melting ice under his burning rage. He is taller than you, but surely not even half as strong. He changed…But the murder in his eyes worries you more than any ritual of theirs that the boy could be involved in.

"You just insulted mother…" said Harry calmly," You threatened me and insulted me, for this you will watch your family die for the betrayal of blood. And you shall perish painfully…. And slowly…"

You howl in rage and charge at your nephew. You swing your fist and wait for it to hit and injure the insolent brat enough to make sure that he could not move ever again.

Just to feel a piercing pain your shoulder… You look up to see a white-haired Harry Potter look down upon you, holding a long glowing sword, you do not remember the name for those Japanese ones, in his hand that pierced your shoulder, and whispers, "Let me take from you whatever you cherish most…"

Then he burst into action, hitting a point at your neck that paralysed you and then, after your brave Dudley charged him to just turn around and slice open his stomach, you try to cry out in horror as you see your Dudder's interestines spill out, but you cannot move even your mouth, just your eyes.

The Demon smiles at you and laughs, "You thought you fools would be a challenge? Truly pitiful…"

"YOU FREAK! I KNEW IT WOULD COME TO THIS WHEN YOUR MOTHER WAS BORN!"

A crack echoed through the kitchen, and you turn around to see your Petunia drop your revolver, you sigh in relief and turn back, to see the impossible…

The shot didn't even hit the freak! The boy parried it with this freakish sword of his!

"Tut tut, Aunt Petunia, did you truly think that I was going to fall for such a cheap trick? I fear that your uses for me have found their end. Good Bye."

And in a flash you see the head of your love fly through the air and the freak stand next to the dismembered corpse of your wife.

You struggle, attempting to break your petrification, when you see cold eyes look down at you, smirking brutally. "Your time is overdue, I am afraid. And Masamune is thirsting… "

You feel a searing pain run through you, originating from your chest

Darkness swallows you.

* * *

It was ten am, when Nymphadora Tonks burst into the round, ornate room that was the Headmaster's office in Hogwarts.

The headmaster sat as usual in his chair behind his desk, looking serene, upon her entering he asked, raising a grey eyebrow, "Whatever is your problem, Nymphadora?"

Tonks, not even noticing that the Professor had used the dreaded name, wheezed out "Harry… gone… Mundungus… left… did signature check... not in… house.…"

Dumbledore jumped up with agility unheard of for his age and urged, "Assemble all the order members at the Headquarters. I will rally the others. We meet at 10:30 at Arabella's."

Tonks, baffled by the speed of the headmaster, complied and disappeared through the fireplace, after throwing a pinch of floopowder into it.

Dumbledore took a minute to check some instruments in his office, before disappearing as well.

---------------------------------------------

Thirty minutes later a crowd of forty order members assembled, all of them being professional fighters (Aurors, Hitwizards, Unspeakables etc.) and Dumbledore led them to Privet Drive.

He rang the doorbell two times, and when no one answered he nodded to Kingsley and stepped aside, a second later a quick "Reducto" blasted the door to shreds and the team entered the house, dividing into four groups of five searching the house and the others watching their backs from the outside.

The more observant of them noticed the lack of pictures of Harry Potter, did not comment on it though, thinking he was just shy.

Dumbledore, in a team with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks, Hestia Jones and Emmeline Vance, searched the upper floor; there they found two empty bedrooms, where kings could have housed.

Suddenly they heard a shout from another room "Professor! You need to see this!"

Dumbledore rushed out of the room and down the corridor where he saw Bill Weasley standing outside a room, he asked, "What happened here?"

"Nothing, but this is Harry's room."

"How do you know that?" asked Jones.

"Well, there are two letters addressed to him in the paper bin," replied Bill.

"It's empty."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Kingsley," said Tonks.

"COME DOWN HERE! THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE!"

At the cry the whole troop sprinted out of the room, down the stairs and into the open kitchen, there they found a slaughter…

"What kind of monster would do such a thing?" asked a flabbergasted Emmeline Vance.

"Death Eaters? This can only be the result of dark magic!"

"No, lass. There is no residual magic around here at all…", remarked Moody, his grisly visage surveying the blood bath from the doorway.

The kitchen swam in blood, Dudley Dursley's intestines were laying floppily on the floor and Petunia's head stared at them with empty eyes from the table. Directly next to the door was Vernon Dursley, with a wound on his chest, where a sharp object had entered through his heart and then sliced it open.

"So, where's the Psycho now? I pity the psychiatrist he gets!" was all Tonks kept muttering.

"There is no use in running around aimlessly, like headless chicken, no pun intended. Harry is not here and he is not in danger, otherwise my alarm wards would have alerted me. Let's hope he got away safely. Now our main priority is to bring him back to Grimmauld Place in good health. I cannot imagine the trauma he's feeling at the moment. Disperse and organize a searching schedule. Start combing the surroundings," ordered Dumbledore, he then cast cleaning charms in the kitchen and put the Dursley's into transfigured coffins.

It was unclear to the observers as to whether the worry upon his face was for the missing boy or the plans that had been torn asunder

Deciding to check the whole lower floor he came across a small cupboard under the stairs, opening it he found the initials "HP" written in a scrawly script he knew quite well from reading the essays he'd had the professors copy for him, to satisfy his curiousity about Harry's penmanship and intelligence.

After he was alone he muttered softly, "Where are you, Harry Potter. And what have I done to you?"

End of chapter 2

_Here we go, this is the second chapter, it's an experiment, as usual i appreciate reviews. I would like to know, though, if i should continue to write with person shifts_

_I will try to summarize the things you asked in your reviews:_

_First, the mother thing was a mistake that happened while editing and betaing the story, we (my beta and I, thanks crazy1 for betaing by the wy) cut out two sentences with mother, I returned one of them just before adding this chapter._

_I know of the clichetrap and purposedly used "them", but let me tell you, nothing is as it seems._

_Sephiroth is an evil character in the Final Fantasy 7 universe. _

_Thanks for your reviews!_


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